


head stuck in a cycle

by lacecat



Category: Black Sails
Genre: AU of the first two seasons, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flashbacks, Humor, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9221831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacecat/pseuds/lacecat
Summary: “Excuse me, I don’t think I heard you correctly,” Gates says, still staring at Flint. “My heart must’ve finally given out, because there is no chance that you just said we can’t just kill the the cook once we get the schedule from him becauseyou fucked the cook.”In which Silver and Flint meet in a very different situation, and that changes their story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened based on an idea i had. sets pre/episode 1.01 and meanders around the first two seasons. It's also reasonably light-hearted, given the content lol

•••

 

“Excuse me, I don’t think I heard you correctly,” Gates says, still staring at Flint. “My heart must’ve finally given out, because there is no chance that you just said we can’t just kill the the cook once we get the schedule from him because _you fucked the cook._ ”

 

Flint, for his part, doesn’t flinch, just shrugs from where he’s leaning back on his desk, like he isn’t being accused of homosexual favoritism in his crew. 

 

Which he definitely is guilty of, as Silver can testify, as he looks from Flint to Gates and then quickly back to Flint, because even though they’ve fucked, there’s no way he’s not going to keep on eye on him. Call it basic common sense: the man has a reputation for killing his crew, after all. 

 

Gates seems to go from stunned silence to spluttering, next. “How- what- _why_ ,” he says,almost mournfully. “Why?”

 

Silver sees it in his best interest not to say it’s because he’s adept at sucking cock, and the captain seems to rather enjoys his mouth. And Silver quite enjoys Flint’s mouth, while he’s at it. He stays silent. 

 

“This doesn’t change that we’re going after the gold,” Flint says. His eyes don’t even flick to Silver as he tries to convince Gates. “He’s got the schedule memorized, and it’s in our best interest to keep him alive to make all of our lives a whole lot easier.” 

 

“But why, why-” Gates replies, evidently trying to keep from exploding at the captain’s nonchalant attitude, “-would you tell me that the two of you-” 

 

“It’s because one of the crew walked in on us,” Silver interrupts, because apparently his mouth runs whether or not he likes (it’s got him in trouble in more than one ways, apparently). “They already don’t trust me and don’t like the captain, and they’d like him much less than if he were to kill the man he’d been fucking. Call it common courtesy.”

 

He remembers when the man walked in on them. He- Billy, Silver recalls- looked stunned for a moment at their obviously compromising position, even though both of them had most of their clothes on (Silver on his knees in front of Flint at his desk, hands on the captain’s hips from where his trousers were rucked down, while Flint had both of his hands tangled in his hair), then promptly turned green and had left as quickly as he entered the captain’s quarters.

 

And now they were here. 

 

Flint’s eyes cut angrily back to Silver. “There is no ‘we’,” he says, menacingly, and Silver raises his hands defensively. “Nothing would have ever happened between us if I had known of your treachery in the first place.”

 

_And what_ , Silver nearly wants to ask, _about the multiple occasions after you learned I had the schedule? My treachery evidently didn’t stop us from having those times_. But he recognizes that that would be a fatal thing to say, and again, stays silent. 

 

Gates sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “So you’re telling me that you’re fucking the cook, who is the man who’s keeping us from having the complete schedule, and now the men know, so you’ve made your already unstable position as captain that much more unstable since you can’t kill him for both reasons.”

 

“And the men have likely put two and two together, and are guessing that I possess the schedule, since that’s likely why the captain and I are fucking,” Silver helpfully chimes in. “The man was rather traumatized after seeing us. The men were able to get the truth of what happened very quickly, he was so shocked.” 

 

Now Gates is shooting a dark look at him, even though his glare is less murderous than Flint’s. “And I suppose that Billy walking right in was a complete coincidence,” he accuses, and Silver bristles, about to defend himself, when Flint cuts in. 

 

“Enough. I need a word alone with the cook,” he says, still staring at Silver. Gates looks ready to disobey, but then visibly heaves a sigh and leaves the quarters, pointedly closing the door behind him.

 

“I really didn’t know that Billy was going to walk in,” Silver quickly says as Flint walks closer to him. “Swear on my mother’s grave-” 

 

“Enough.” Flint’s voice is steely. “Our situation was only viable if it was also in secrecy. Since it is evidently no longer a private matter, I have no choice but to end our... arrangement.”

 

Although a small part of Silver is honestly surprised that Flint doesn’t seem ready to strike him down right then and there, he can’t help but to ask, “Does it have to be? I mean, the men already know about us, and they would’ve ousted you already if they weren’t so tolerant of two men in that way. You and I both know that I’m going to give you the schedule regardless of whatever we’re doing, so why not enjoy ourselves in the meantime?”

 

Flint’s eyes are cold. “I have no interest being affiliated any more than necessary with a treacherous snake such as yourself. Especially given these most recent events, I will not be making any more mistakes with you.”

 

Silver can feel his lips thin out. “Fine. I’ll give you the next part of the schedule tomorrow, then,” he snaps, turning and leaving the quarters.

  
As soon as he’s gone, Flint lets out an exhale. He’s too old for this sort of ridiculousness, he thinks to himself. 

 

•••

 

_After Silver had gone back to the brothel with Max, her assuring him that she already knew of a buyer for the schedule, Silver had found himself hanging around the downstairs section. He wasn’t interested in purchasing the company of any of the women there- his experience with “Blackbeard” and the other whores had been quite satisfying- so he watched as they crooned into men’s ears, no doubt chasing down the secrets that poured from drunk lips._

 

_As Silver watched the room, he only happened to glance at the doorway, where he saw a man enter. He had dark, reddish-brown hair tied up on the back of his head, with a beard and mustache of a similar color, twisted over his scowl. Despite his expression, the man was handsome, even with the scrapes on his face, and as Silver let his eyes appreciatively over his body, it was clear that he was muscular, with freckles peeking out from underneath his shirt, and thick thighs that clearly filled out his trousers._

 

_He then realized that the man was looking directly at him, and Silver’s eyes snapped up again to meet his gaze. The man’s scowl reduced, somewhat, and he stared at Silver for a moment, his eyes also going up and down Silver’s frame._

 

_Under his gaze, Silver couldn’t help but to preen slightly, letting his legs fall open slightly from where he was leaning on the wall, crossing his arms. He hasn’t had a man check him out so blatantly in a very long time- while women were great to fuck, sure, and obviously came with less hangable offenses- Silver sometimes missed having the hot, heavy weight of a man pressed against him, or a cock in his mouth._

 

_He thought he was satisfied with the whores earlier, but now- as the man continues to blatantly check him out- he can feel hot arousal curling low in his gut. But still, he waits for the man to realize the invitation that no doubt is visible on his face._

 

_The man’s brow furrowed for a split second when he meets Silver’s eye once more. Something in his expression changes, but before Silver can recognize his expression, the man quickly turns and leaves the room._

 

_Despite all the warning bells going off in his head, Silver knows that the man wants him, even if he wasn’t going to approach him. He makes the decision to leave the room after the man, and pushes off the wall._

 

_Outside, the man is walking down the street, and Silver can follow him by the line of his broad shoulders. He catches up to the man quickly, then steps in front of him, right in front of an alley between two of the storefronts, now closed._

 

_The man’s hand flies to his sword as if on instinct, but then he looks at Silver up and down, almost in surprise, before scowling just like before. “Move.”_

 

_“I don’t think I want to,” Silver says, crossing his arms in front of him. “What were you doing in the brothel?”  
_

 

_The man levels him with a look that’s rather terrifying, but still, doesn’t move to gut him, so it’s not the worst reaction Silver’s gotten. “I’m not interested in purchasing your service.”_

 

_Silver gives a small laugh, takes a step closer to the man. “And I’m not for sale. But what’s to say-” and he takes a chance, putting a hand on the man’s chest, “-that we can’t still have some satisfying experience tonight?”_

 

_The man’s eyes- a startling green color- narrow, and Silver is preparing to duck a punch, but then he gives a short grunt. “Fine. But I need to be somewhere soon, so you better make it quick.”_

 

_Silver laughs, pulls him into the alley. He goes to his knees readily, as the man undoes his trousers. When he swallows the man down, he’s surprised at how gentle the man is as he holds the back of his head, not tugging roughly or holding Silver down. He teases the vein on the underside with his tongue, making slurping sounds as he works his mouth._

 

_Silver moves his hands to his thighs- relishing in the moan he hears when he squeezes the thick muscle there- and stands up again when the man is close, pressing him into the wall of the store, licking his hand before jerking him off as the man finishes with a moan pressed into the back of his hand. For a split moment, Silver considers kissing him- but then decides against it._

 

_He’s even more surprised when the man pushes Silver to the wall as soon as he’s finished coming, expecting a hurried hand job, but instead the man too sinks to his knees. He takes Silver out of his trousers and sucks almost viciously on the head of his cock, as Silver gapes down at him, moans forcing their way out of his throat._

 

_He doesn’t last long, longing to wrap his hands into the man’s reddish hair, but then he’s coming in long bursts in the man’s mouth before he can move, and the man stands up again and leaves him alone, tucking himself back into his trousers as he goes._

 

_Silver, still panting from his surprisingly intense orgasm, for a split second is disappointed that he will likely never see the man again._

 

_And then, because Fate is nothing is truly evil, it turns out that the man is none other than the fearsome Captain Flint, to whose crew Silver has just signed up. And whose schedule that Silver possesses, and would definitely murder Silver as soon as he saw him again._

 

_Silver thinks to himself, as he jumps off the side of the Walrus, that at least he got a great orgasm before he was going to die._

 

_Then later that night, when Flint pushes him up against the rocks at the wrecks, there’s a moment of pure rage in his eyes, before there’s also a spark of recognition._

 

_“You-!?” Flint hisses, pressing the knife closer to Silver’s neck. “You fucking-”_

 

_“I have to say, I wish we met again under better circumstances,” Silver grits out. Despite the fact that the man clearly has a knife against his throat, he can’t help but to not entirely hate the feeling of the man’s body pressed up against his once again. But under entirely different circumstances now._

 

_“Where is the fucking schedule,” Flint growls, and then Silver has to tell him about how he’s burned the schedule, and he has no choice to keep him alive if he ever wants to get that gold._

 

_For such a quickly thought out plan, it’s a remarkable success, even as Flint drags Silver back to the Walrus, before leaving. While Flint is gone, Silver is subject to Eleanor Guthrie’s rage, who is nearly on par with Flint in her anger._

 

_“What’s to stop me from killing you?” Flint asks, a cruel sneer on his face, and Silver can’t help but to let a small smirk escape on his face._

 

_“Perhaps we’ll be friends by then,” he replies, letting the corner of his mouth twitch, and for an instant, he thinks Flint’s eyes flickerdown to his mouth, as if he too remembers their encounter._

 

_Which eventually leads to them both alone in Flint’s quarters on the Walrus. He assumed that Flint was going to keep him a prisoner of Guthrie’s, but instead, the man dragged him back to the ship._

 

_“What happened between you and I,” Flint enunciates, from where he slammed Silver against the door of the quarters, as Silver tries not to shiver at the man’s breath on his mouth, “Will never happen again. You will not breathe a word of it to a single soul-”  
_

 

_Because Silver has always lived life dangerously at that, he manages to glance down at Flint’s mouth. “That’s a shame,” Silver says, looking him right in the eye coyly. “Because I’d rather like a repeat performance.”_

 

_Which leads to him getting fucked while Flint presses him against the bookshelves, his mouth leaving bite marks all over the backs of his shoulders. Silver moans as one of Flint’s thrusts hits him perfectly, as Flint’s hand slithers around his torso to start pulling him off in short, quick strokes, and they both come in that position._

 

_It happens again and again- Silver lets himself into the quarters in the quiet hours of the early morning, or when the men are all busy above the deck, Flint having barked orders at them. Most of the time it’s Silver on his knees, but they get to fuck or at least grind against each other several more times._

 

_Until that one fateful time, when Billy walks in on them, and well, Silver is just glad he walked in on them earlier rather than ten minutes later._

 

_•••_

 

“Christ,” Gates said, “He’s not even that pretty, you know.”

 

Flint pours himself more rum, apt for the conversation they’re having, and resigns himself to a hangover the next morning. He thinks of what Miranda would say, if he told her of the situation he was currently stuck in. Probably laugh at him, or worse, make sympathetic noises. 

 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad- I’m glad you’re getting your needs taken care of,” Gates says in starts and stops, and Flint quickly pours him more rum so that he stops talking. 

 

“It just happened,” he says, sounding sullen even to his own ears, and Gates points at him aggressively. 

 

“You ended it with him, didn’t you?” he says, somewhat slurred. “After I left you two the other day.” 

 

“I did,” Flint replies, finishing his glass of rum. “I had to. It’s just fucking.”

 

“Well, he’s still a shit cook,” Gates says, and that’s that. 

 

•••

 

Only everything goes to shit. They lose Billy in the storm, then many men, Gates included, in the confrontation with the warship.

 

They wash up on that beach. In the absence of Gates, and with the words of Miranda’s letter, Dufresne takes over on the beach. But then Silver helps him take over the warship, and Flint regains his captaincy.

 

He corners, Silver, once, when they’re on the warship back to Nassau, before Vane blocks them in the harbor. “Thank you,” Flint says somewhat stiffly. “For volunteering.”

 

Silver shrugs. “You’re welcome?” He doesn’t look like he quite knows what to do with Flint actually thanking him. 

 

“And learn how to fight and shoot a fucking gun,” Flint adds, just to watch Silver glower at him, before he leaves with a small smile on his face. 

 

•••

 

They’re in a weird state of not-fucking, but also not-quite-friends, but definite, albeit strange allies. Sometimes, Silver will find himself in the captain’s quarters, where he will look over Flint’s collection of books. At first, the man seemed ready to snap at him whenever he opened his mouth, but there’s been somewhat of a reduced tension between them.

 

In terms of angry confrontations, that is. At night, Silver bites his lip to stay silent as he works himself to orgasm at the memory of Flint’s cock inside him, _those thighs_ as they flex from where he’s pinning Silver down. 

 

Outside of vivid fantasies, Silver comes to want to see what makes James Flint the man he is, when it’s clear that the man is no ordinary bloodthirsty pirate. Every time he thinks he understands Flint, the man continually confounds. 

 

Silver finds himself in a dilemma, then, when the men who were guarding the gold return.

 

He considers lying to Flint, lying to the men, seeing an opportunity to cut the number of shares of the gold by a significant number. Silver pictures his life with that significant portion of gold, running off to St. Augustine or the Americas, living a new life.

 

But then he remembers how Flint looked when he thanked him- how his face, usually devoid of any emotion other than rage, was shuttered, as if he was genuine in his thanks, but did not want Silver to see into the window, know that there was a man who loved and laughed, perhaps not for a very long time.

 

He goes to Flint with the information, instead, and suggests his plan. At the very least, what is one more share in this wealth? 

 

“We tell them that the gold is lost,” Silver says, watching as Flint’s face focuses on him. “Hornigold will be silenced, and we can still go to Charleston with the promise of this wealth to come back to, to this land you want so much to build.”

 

Flint is silent for a moment when he is done, studying Silver with unnerving intensity. “Why come to me,” is what he asks, eventually. “You could’ve lied to me, about the gold. But why?”  


Silver considers lying to him even in that moment, say it was any number of things. But the truth comes out, his words hesitant. “You have a vision for Nassau,” is what he settles on saying. “And I think you deserve to have at the very least this in your grasp to get it done.”

 

Flint looks at him again, and to Silver’s surprise, his hand goes to the side of Silver’s face and he kisses him. It’s not a hurried, violent kiss, and Flint’s mouth is surprisingly soft and warm, even as his beard rubs against Silver’s face.

 

After a moment, Silver’s hands go up to the sides of his head, and he’s kissing him back. He doesn’t remember if they ever kissed- certainly not like this, however, not with how Flint is breathing into his mouth, his thumb hooked underneath Silver’s jaw. 

 

They kiss like that, for a long time, in the fading light of the cabin. Then Flint has to leave to make preparations in Nassau, and Silver watches him go. 

 

•••

 

Silver didn’t know what he expected when he finally, properly met Miranda Barlow. She takes one look at him, the girl- Abigail- cowering behind her, and says, “Ah, you must be the cook.” 

 

“A pleasure,” Silver says, somewhat blankly. He knew that she and Flint were lovers, or perhaps even husband and wife- knew that she existed, but seeing her in the flesh, looking right at him, it’s a bit startling. 

 

A piece of her hair curls in front of her dark eyes, and Miranda pushes it behind her ear. “James has told me many things about you,” is what she says, and Silver blinks.

 

“I have no doubt not all of them are polite,” he quips, and Miranda snorts out a laugh. 

 

“No, no they are not. But regardless, you have helped him, and for that,I thank you.” Her words make Silver recall when Flint thanked him.

 

“Can I show you to the captain’s quarters?” Silver asks, extending his arm like a proper gentleman because Miranda Barlow is a woman he’s decided he would like to know. She takes it with a broad smile, Abigail following them as he brings her to Flint’s quarters. 

 

•••

 

On the way to Charleston, he and Flint are unable to have time alone together, given that the two women are in his quarters for much of the time. At first, they press each other to the sides of the storage area, mouths sliding furiously against each other, and make do with the lack of space and light to see each other in. 

 

Miranda raises an eyebrow when she catches them, once, coming out from below deck, clothing rumpled.There’s no doubt to what they’ve been up to. 

 

“Mr. Silver,” she calls, and Flint looked vaguely betrayed when she raises a hand to stop him from approaching as well. 

 

Silver hides his grin and goes over to where she is. 

  
“Mr. Silver, I think Abigail and I will be having our daily walks just before sunset every day. We should get more air, I believe, starting now,” she tells him, and even smirks herself when Silver’s neck begins to flush. 

 

“Thank you,” he says, “ _Really_.” 

 

“You make him happy,” she adds, which momentarily throws Silver for a loop, and Miranda brings Abigail to the other side of the deck to look out at the water. The dark haired girl looks less scared than she was when she initially boarded the ship, with Miranda’s soothing presence no doubt acclimatizing her to the situation.

 

Flint comes up from behind him. “What did she say?”  


 

Silver drags his eyes across his frame, rather than repeat her words. “She’s a good woman.” 

 

•••

 

One evening, the night before they arrive in Charleston, Flint is bordering on desperate as he touches Silver, his hands and mouth seeking flesh like he could consume everything Silver could give him. Silver holds him, lets him take and take, and when Flint finishes, Silver still hard inside him, he's shaking, eyes squeezed shut, as Silver clutches onto him. 

 

Afterwards, when they are curled in the small bed together, Flint presses his head to Silver’s chest and tells him of his past, how he came to know Miranda, and of Thomas Hamilton. 

 

Silver is quiet as Flint speaks in low, rumbling tones, and holds him a little tighter when it’s clear how much heartbreak the man has been through, the twisted world he has been forced to live in and flee from. 

 

He wants to see England burn too, now. 

 

•••

 

Then it goes downhill in Charleston. While Flint, Miranda, and Abigail go right into the belly of the beast, Vane’s crew surprises them on the warship, putting them all into chains.

 

Then Vane heads off to save Flint, and Silver is dragged into the quarters by the sadistic quartermaster. 

 

As the hammer swings down, connecting with Silver’s leg with a sickening crack, he thinks to himself as he screams, _What if I had never told Flint about the gold_?

 

_•••_

 

He passes in and out of consciousness, fever spiking before eventually dropping. When he wakes up, Flint is there, looking especially tired, and tells him that he’s been voted quartermaster. 

 

Silver tries to say something, anything, but he’s so tired, and Flint squeezes his hand. Cool hands cover his brow as well, and Miranda Barlow whispers from somewhere behind him, “Let him sleep.”  


_•••_

 

He learns what happened in Charleston when the fever is finally gone. Flint and Miranda had appealed to Peter Ashe, hoping that returning Abigail to him had given them borrowed time to plead for the entirety of Nassau. 

 

Then, over a dinner, Miranda had discovered that it had been Ashe himself who had told the earl about Flint and Thomas. She had started to shout, and one of Ashes’s men had burst in, gun ready to shoot.

 

But young, sweet Abigail had also barged in, and in the surprise, she had ended up a victim to her own father’s henchman. 

 

Shocked at the death of his only daughter, Peter Ashe had ordered both Flint and Miranda to be hung that very same day. But then Charles Vane had come in, rescuing them both, and now they were sailing away from a smoldering Charleston.

 

“She was just a child,” Flint says quietly, his face shadowed in the evening light. Silver shifts slightly on the window seat, and wishes he had two legs in that moment to walk across the room and do something- comfort him, touch him, anything. 

 

•••

 

He gets used to the peg leg, but feels the absence of Flint. They get back to Nassau, and Miranda leaves the ship, but still, Flint is distant, absent. Silver, as he heals from the amputated leg, doesn’t attempt to close the distance. 

 

They haven’t shared a bed since before Charleston, at first due to Silver needing to heal, but then Flint had barely talked to him. 

 

Silver decides he has enough one night, and he corners Flint on the upper deck, where he is pacing back and forth. 

 

“Have I wronged you in some way?” he demands, forcing Flint to look at him, somewhat aware he sounds like a surly, scorned lover. Which, all in all, he is. 

 

Flint avoids his eyes. “No,” he says, but doesn’t clarify. 

 

“Is it the leg, then?” Silver asks, impatient. “Do you no longer find me attractive?”  


 

“No- it’s nothing to do with you,” Flint bites out. 

 

“Then what?” Silver growls, when Flint still doesn’t answer. “I will push you over the side, so help me, don’t think I won’t.”  


 

“After Charleston,” Flint begins, his expression carefully flat. “After seeing that man murder an innocent girl, when it could have been Miranda, or anyone else- it’s broken. Charleston, England, civilization.”

 

He stops, for a moment, but Silver lets him stare out at where the moon meets the dark line of the water. “I’ve never been a good man. But after seeing that, I must be the monster they’ve made me out to be. This war, this war that we’re starting, it needs a figurehead of death, of destruction.” Flint turns to look at Silver, then. “It needs me as the monster to thrive. That’s why I sent Miranda back to the exterior, why you need to stay away from me.” 

 

Silver lets out a long exhale, which Flint must take for acceptance, for he turns away. Silver catches him on the arm when it looks like he’s going to walk away. “Civilization, it could use two monsters,” Silver tells him, instead, seeing a wash of guilt go over Flint’s face. 

 

“I can’t ask you-”  


 

“No, you can’t,” and Silver lets his hand fall, until he’s grasping Flint’s forearm. “Which is why, believe me when I tell you, I will willingly be that monster alongside you.”

 

There’s a raw look on Flint’s face. “What this war will ask of you, you should not-”

 

Silver squeezes his arm. “But I want to,” he says, simply, and when he draws Flint for in a kiss, the man groans into his mouth. 

 

Between them, they will be the monsters that fight the civilization, the empire they go up against. But they will stand side by side, and whatever they must do, they will do it together. 

 

•••

 

Out of all things, they find Billy washed up in one of the faraway towns, somehow surviving his plunge during the storm. 

 

He seems relieved to be back with the crew, fighting alongside them. That is, until after a battle, when Flint pulls Silver into a bloody kiss in front of all the men after they’ve dispatched half a dozen British regulars by themselves. 

 

“Oh God,” Billy says, watching the two of them kiss, “I thought they would’ve killed each other by now.” 

 

•••

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @jamesbarlow on tumblr for more fun BS content!


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